Stepping out of the bank, Cynthia said, "Oh God! What is that smell?"
Smiling at the look of disgust on her face, Sid answered, "That smell is humanity at its unwashed best."
"It is horrible," Cynthia said holding her nose. The stench was nearly enough to bring tears to her eyes.
"You'll get used to it. Besides, once we leave town we'll leave the smell behind," Sid said looking around to get his bearings. He spotted the stable at the end of the street. He said, "We'll go to the stable and buy horses and a saddle."
"Lead on," Cynthia said.
"Walk beside me," Sid said thinking he wanted to keep an eye on her. He didn't want her to disappear on him.
"Okay," Cynthia said looking over at him.
As they walked down the street, Cynthia had to watch where she was stepping to avoid the piles of manure and puddles of urine that littered the way. There were farm animals that roamed the street. Not having much experience with pigs, she kept Sid between her and them out of fear that they would attack. She had always thought that pigs were little animals. It was hard to believe that people lived in such filth like this.
She spotted a man taking a piss on the side of one of the buildings. The idea that someone would actually do that in a public place shocked her. What was even more shocking to her was that no one even seemed to take notice of it. A woman walked past without even a glance at the man.
Cynthia looked around at the other people in the street. She noticed that folks gave Sid a wide berth. It reminded her of scenes from Westerns when a gunfighter showed up in town. Everyone seemed to know with just a glance that he was dangerous. A few of the men did pause to check her out. She stepped a little closer to Sid when she noticed their attention.
Sid walked to the stable keeping his eyes open for threats. On reaching the stable, he paused by the corral to check out the horses. There were six horses standing around in the corral although only two of them looked decent. He said, "I was afraid of that."
"What?"
Sid answered, "Their stock is in pretty poor condition."
The owner of the stables came out and examined Sid for a second. He had scars around his hands; but they weren't the kind of scars that came from dealing with horses. Rubbing the back of his neck, he asked, "Is there anything that I can do for you?"
"Are these the best that you have?" Sid asked.
"Only two of them are for sale," the owner answered, "The gray mare over there and the black mare over there."
Sid looked at the two horses and shook his head. The only positive thing he could say about the pair was that they weren't the worst of the lot. He said, "I'll give you a conch for the pair, halter, and a saddle."
"Two conch," the man replied.
"No deal. I'd rather walk than waste that kind of money on those nags," Sid said.
Cynthia was looking at the horses and didn't see anything wrong with them. She rather liked the gray mare. She looked over at Sid and noticed that he had put his saddle down and his hand was resting on the hilt of his sword. She looked around and noticed a man watching them.
The man appeared to think about the matter for a minute and then said, "Okay. One conch and two quad for the pair, halter, and a saddle."
"One conch and a quad," Sid countered.
"Okay," the man said. He glanced over at the man standing by the barn.
Sid noticed the glance, but didn't comment on it. The horses should have cost more even though they weren't the best he'd ever seen. He said, "Bring out the gear and we'll saddle the horses. I need to leave soon."
"Okay," the owner said. He headed over to the barn to get a saddle.
While the man was gone, Sid asked, "Which horse do you want?"
"The gray," Cynthia answered happy that she was going to get the horse she liked.
It took Sid only a few minutes to saddle both horses and to get his gear packed. He checked over the saddle he had just purchased thinking that it was of higher quality than he had expected. He glanced over at the man by the barn and then over at the two quality horses in the coral. Taking the horses, he said, "We'll go over to the general store."
"Okay," Cynthia said running a hand along the neck of her horse. It was kind of thrilling to think that she had her own horse.
They walked over to the general store leading their horses. Sid tied them to the hitching post and looked around. In a low voice, he said, "We'll go in the store. You stay by the door and watch our stuff. If anyone tries something, don't go outside. Tell me and I'll take care of it."
"Okay," Cynthia said thinking that Sid was being overly cautious.
She watched out the door of the general store while Sid made his purchases. She was dying to have a chance to browse, but stayed at her post. No one even approached the horses. She noticed the man who had been by the stables walk over to a building. The appearance of the building made her think of a tavern. Sid appeared at her side with his purchases and said, "We'll head over to the market and get supplies. I want to get out of town as soon as possible."
"What's the matter?" Cynthia asked.
"I think a couple of gentlemen are thinking of taking our horses once we get out of town," Sid answered. He gestured over to the tavern. The man and two of his friends came out of the building and headed over to the stable.
"I didn't think you had even seen that guy," Cynthia said.
"I saw him," Sid said. He went over to the horses and packed the goods on Cynthia's gray mare. As he worked, he said, "We've got about eight hours of daylight left. We need to use every hour of it."
Seven hours out of town, Sid and Cynthia approached a small copse. The trees were small and twisted as though the soil couldn't support them. Sid stopped his horse and examined the stand of trees. He looked back down the road they had traveled and said, "This is the most logical spot to camp."
Cynthia didn't care if the spot was logical or not. She was so sore that she could barely move. Seven hours on horseback were four hours longer than she had ever been on a horse. All she wanted was to get some rest. She wasn't even interested in sex and that was saying a lot. She said, "Great. I'm bushed."
"We won't be getting much sleep tonight," Sid said nudging his horse towards the trees.
"Why not?" Cynthia asked hoping that he wasn't going to make her train with the staff after dinner.
"I expect we'll have some visitors about six hours from now," Sid answered looking over his shoulder. The horizon of the flat plain was unbroken. All that meant was that the people following them were taking their time.
Cynthia looked back and said, "I don't see anything."
"Neither do I," Sid said.
"You're sure about this," Cynthia asked.
"Yes I am," Sid answered as they reached the trees. There was a nice little spot in the center where a fire pit was located. He said, "You set up camp while I look around."
Cynthia had no idea how to set up a camp. She asked, "What should I do?"
"Gather some firewood and start a fire. Put our sleeping gear next to the fire," Sid answered forgetting to mention that she should dig a latrine pit. He dropped their gear near the fire pit and led the horses away. He tied the horses to a tree and then took a walk around the copse.
Cynthia went around and gathered a little firewood. It was mostly deadfall twigs. She built a little pile of them in the fire pit and realized that she didn't have any matches. Feeling helpless, she stood there wondering what to do. She was still there when Sid returned half an hour later. He looked around and asked, "Where's the firewood?"
"There in the fire place," Cynthia answered gesturing to the fire pit. It had been a lot of work to pick up that much.
Sid laughed and said, "That's kindling. Come on. We've got to gather enough wood to last the night."
Cynthia learned that gathering firewood was not a five minute task. She and Sid collected a pile of wood that stood several feet tall with good sized branches. It seemed to her that the pile would last for a year, but Sid seemed to know what he was doing. It was dark by the time Sid finished teaching her how to start a fire using a flint and a very small piece of iron. As her stomach growled, she asked, "When's dinner?"
"We've got to cook it yet," Sid answered with a grin.
"Oh," Cynthia said.
Sid pulled out a pot and filled it with a little water from his water bag. He set the pot over the fire and dumped in a bunch of vegetables that they had purchased at the market. He added some of the dried meat that they had bought. With a sigh, he said, "We're stuck with camp stew tonight. It'll be ready in about an hour."
"An hour?" Cynthia asked dismayed by the prospect of waiting an hour.
"The dried meat will take that long to absorb the water," Sid said. He asked, "Where did you dig a latrine?"
"Huh?" Cynthia said. She hadn't known that she was supposed to dig a latrine.
"What were you doing while I was checking out the area?" Sid asked.
"I was trying to figure out how to start the fire," Cynthia answered. She raised her hands out to the side and said, "I've never really been camping before."
"I kind of figured that out," Sid said with a grin. He went over to their gear and got out their sleeping blankets. He threw hers to her and then laid his out on the ground. She mimicked his actions.
"What did you find when you looked around?" Cynthia asked to fill the silence.
Sid answered, "I found some shallow graves."
"Oh," Cynthia said feeling a little sick to her stomach.
Cynthia woke when a hand was placed over her mouth. She struggled for a moment until she realized that it was Sid. He leaned down and whispered, "We need to get up now. They are approaching."
"Okay," Cynthia whispered back. She climbed out of her sleeping blanket and glanced over at Sid's blanket. It was lumpy like someone was inside it. The fire had burned down to embers and cast a pale red glow over everything. A few feet from the fire pit, it was dark. She looked up at the star-filled sky and realized there wasn't a moon.
Sid pushed her aside and put a couple of branches with leaves under her blanket. Suddenly it looked like someone was asleep underneath it. He pointed to her staff and whispered, "Keep you staff with you at all times."
"Yes, sir," Cynthia answered in a whisper. She picked up her staff thinking that it might have been a good idea to have practiced more with it.
Sid led her away from the camp to where it was so dark that she could barely see anything around her. He pointed over to a small bush and whispered, "One of the men will probably come through here. I want you to hide behind this bush and when he passes by you, I want you to hit him across the neck with your staff as hard as you can. Do you understand?"
"You want me to hit him in the neck with my staff," Cynthia repeated in a whisper. Her voice broke when it dawned on her that she'd kill the man if she were to do that.
"That's right. Keep hitting him until he stops moving," Sid whispered knowing that she hadn't gotten into the kill or be killed mindset that she needed to survive. He said, "They'll be here in about a half an hour. Don't make any noise. It carries forever out here."
"Okay," she whispered. It seemed to her that she wasn't doing a very good job of keeping up her end of her conversation. She watched him slip away into the dark.
The little group of trees suddenly turned into a spooky place. She listened and couldn't hear anything. She could barely see more than five feet in the dark. There was a snort from a horse that sounded like it was coming from the plain. She swallowed and tightly held her staff in sweating hands. Only at the very edge of her hearing could she could hear what might have been men talking in the distance.
It seemed like hours passed before she heard the noise of someone moving near her. She looked around trying to see something, but it was too dark. There was a strangled cry from behind her that nearly made her jump out of her skin. Terrified, she saw a figure stand up not three feet from her.
She swung the staff as hard as she could at the center of the shadow shape. She felt and heard it connect. The shape gave a startled shout. She swung again making contact with a tree. She didn't let that stop her. She swung the staff again and again, but hit nothing.
Another cry sounded behind her, but she was too busy with the shadow that was cursing her. In a low growl, a man said, "I'm going to rip your heart out."
She swung her staff where she thought the voice was coming from but it didn't connect. The man connected with a back hand that sent her to the ground seeing stars. She looked up and saw the man with his sword raised above his head. She screamed convinced that he was going to cut her in half.
Through terror stricken eyes, she saw the end of a sword appear in the middle of the man's chest. A knife flashed and she was suddenly bathed in something wet. Her imagination accurately filled in the details. She was suddenly covered by a dead weight. Sid whispered, "There's one more. Stay here."
Terrified, Cynthia stayed where she was; too scared to even move the dead body that was pinning her to the ground. She felt a thud as something hit the dead body that was atop her. That was followed by a gurgle. Pushing her hand under her shirt, she drew her knife prepared to fight to the death.
"That was all of them," Sid said startling Cynthia with how close he was to her.
"They're dead?" she asked.
"Yes," Sid answered. He reached down and pulled the body off of her. There was a slice where the last attacker had cut it with a sword.
She crabbed away and then stood up feeling dizzy. After taking two steps, she ran into a tree. Grabbing hold of rough trunk of the tree, she bent over and vomited. Sid rubbed her back and said, "It will be okay."
"That was terrifying," Cynthia said wiping the vomit from her mouth.
"Let me take you back to the fire," Sid said guiding her through the trees. Once there, he threw some more wood on the fire and it slowly caught fire. He went over to their gear and pulled out a small cloth. Handing it to her, he said, "Wipe your face."
Cynthia scrubbed her face with the small cloth and then looked at it. It had turned red. Her stomach boiled at the sight. She said, "That was blood."
"That's right," Sid said.
"I've got to get clean," Cynthia said shivering. She slowly sank to the ground trembling so hard that she was sure that she'd fall apart.
"There's not enough water here to bath," Sid said knowing how she felt. He sat down beside her and put an arm around her. In a comforting voice intended to assure her that everything was okay, he said, "You're feeling the adrenalin drop that comes after a battle. Relax. It will pass."
"That was terrible," Cynthia said.
Nodding his head in agreement, Sid said, "It was, but it was better than what they had planned for us."
"They'd have killed us in our sleep," Cynthia said as the reality of what had happened slowly came crashing down on her.
"That's right," Sid said thinking that he should be taking care of the bodies. He decided that would have to wait until dawn. At least they had four more horses now.
Sid let Cynthia sleep late while he cleaned up the area from the fight the previous evening. One of the dead men had been the owner of the stables. The men had three conches, six quad, and a dozen pinches among them. Their weapons were of surprisingly good quality. He figured they had taken them from others that they had ambushed in the middle of the night. The two good horses were among the four that had been tied a quarter mile from the copse.
Dividing the money in half, Sid spread the spoils of battle on the ground. He'd let Cynthia take whatever she wanted. He'd recommend one of the shorter swords knowing that she didn't know how to use it. Still, the sword would have been more effective than the staff had been that night. If she had hit the first man with the sword then she would probably have killed him. As it was, she had broken the man's collar bone.
Cynthia woke and looked over at Sid. She felt horrible and there was a terrible taste in her mouth. The right side of her face felt like it was swollen. She remembered getting backhanded during the fight. Sitting up, she said, "I'm hoping that it was a bad dream last night, but it doesn't feel like it."
"It wasn't," Sid said. Her leathers had brown stains from the blood that had covered her the night before. She had a pretty good bruise across her face where she had gotten hit. He hoped that she hadn't broken her jaw or lost any teeth. She hadn't been in shape the previous night to feel much of anything.
She looked down at her leathers for a second and then said, "The brown spots are blood, aren't they?"
"Yes," Sid answered hoping that she going to be able to deal with what had happened.
Cynthia sat there for a minute thinking about the events of the night before. The blood on her clothes was pretty sickening, but the alternative was worse; it could have been her blood. She realized what Sid had meant about adopting a kill or be killed attitude. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she said, "Better theirs than mine."
"It was self defense," Sid said knowing that she'd have her doubts at times.
"I know," Cynthia said.
Sid looked up at the sky thinking that it was getting late. He said, "We had better get ready to go. The sooner we go then the more breaks we can take on the way."
Cynthia thought about the fact that there were dead men somewhere near. It was a rather unsettling thought. Rising from the ground, she said, "I guess we had better take care of the bodies now."
"I've already done that," Sid said. He gestured to the pile of stuff on the ground and said, "Take your pick."
"What's that?"
"That is their stuff. According to the rules of Chaos you are entitled to a share of the spoils of battle," Sid said.
"Oh," Cynthia said. She looked over the pile of stuff and said, "I guess I'll take the knife."
"That and the short sword," Sid said handing them over to her. He also handed the belt with the scabbard for the sword. He figured that the belt would fit her. He picked up one of the empty money purses.
"I don't know how to use a sword," Cynthia said taking the belt.
"You'll learn," Sid replied with a smile.
She looked around and asked, "Where's the staff?"
"Next to your bed," Sid answered gesturing to the staff.
Cynthia put the belt on and then picked up the staff. She asked, "What now?"
"Now we eat some cheese and bread. Then we'll break camp, saddle the horses, and get on the road. We have a Damsel in Distress to save," Sid answered.
Looking around the campsite, Cynthia said, "If she's been running from bastards like those men from last night, we better hurry."
They rode until noon when they took a break to eat some sausage, cheese, and bread. Although they had left later than Sid had wanted, they were making very good time. Cynthia had held up to the ride much better than he had anticipated. He figured they might actually find the Damsel in a couple of hours.
After swallowing a little bite of cheese, Cynthia said, "We've got six horses now. What are we going to do with them?"
Sid looked over at the horses. He had put all of their gear on one of them. With the lighter load, the horses were able to be ridden longer. Cynthia was still riding the horse that they had purchased the previous day, but he was riding one of the better horses. He answered, "We'll sell them. You'll get half of the money."
"I wanted to ask you about that. How much money do I have?" Cynthia asked.
"Well, I figure that after we sell everything you'll have about five conch," Sid answered. He figured that he'd be able to get a conch each for the horses and the rest of the gear would get almost another conch.
Shaking her head, she asked, "How much is that?"
"By the standards of Chaos, you are a rich woman," Sid answered.
She nodded her head and said, "So I could afford to buy a hat."
Sid laughed and said, "Yes, you could afford to buy a hat."
"Good. I want a hat," Cynthia said. She sat there for a moment and then said, "Explain the money system to me again."
"The smallest unit of money is a pinch. Four pinches equals a Quad. In some parts of Chaos, a Quad is also called a Quid. Four Quad equals a Shell. Fifty Shells equals a conch," Sid said.
"So one conch is two hundred Quad," Cynthia said.
"That's right. A typical wage is one shell a day. So a conch is almost two months pay. An Inn typically charges two Quads a night with a meal. So one conch will get you a hundred nights in an Inn," Sid said.
Cynthia was silent for a minute and then said, "I'm rich."
"That's right," Sid said watching her out of the corner of his eye.
"I'm still going to buy a hat," she declared.
"What's the deal with a hat?" Sid asked looking over at her.
Cynthia ran a finger down the part in her hair and answered, "I feel like I'm getting sunburned on the top of my head."
"We'll rig up something for you to wear on your head," Sid said with a smile. He looked up at the sky and said, "It looks like it is going to rain."
"All the more reason to have a hat."
Lazlo Zalezac